New Beginnings
by RowlingTribute91
Summary: Draco Malfoy has just escaped from the epic Battle of Hogwarts. But at what cost? He still must answer for choices he's made. When the unexpected happens, there's just one place for him to go…
1. Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy opened his eyes and found himself at home, in the family's opulent living room.

_Did all of that really just happen?_ he thought.

It had played out like a dream: Crabbe, engulfed by flames in the Room of Requirement. Finding his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, a corpse on the Great Hall floor. Harry Potter, acting dead and then rising to his feet. The sight of the Dark Lord as He dissolved into ashes.

Draco wanted to feel relieved. He wouldn't be forced into complying with His unspeakable orders anymore. But instead, he was nauseous (and for once, it had nothing to do with Apparating- he'd always preferred Floo powder or flying).

What would the Death Eaters do if they knew his family had left the battle? Some were insane enough to come after them. And the Ministry…

"Pack your things," Lucius ordered.

"Where are we going?"

Draco's mother placed a hand on his shoulder. "It doesn't matter. We can't stay here, you realize? The Ministry of Magic will be hunting down every last Death Eater until they've put us all in Azkaban. I won't let you endure that."

"No, we will not," Lucius agreed.

Somehow, Draco found the guts to say, "Isn't it rather… well, _cowardly_?"

Lucius and Narcissa gave him a silent, cold response, and they left for their bedroom, presumably to gather items together.

This was exactly what Draco had predicted. Along the course of his life, he'd bent over backwards for them, did whatever they asked, just so they'd be happy. And he never saw fit to speak his mind.

Until today.

Then, another wizard suddenly Apparated in front of him. A stout wizard, ashes still on his robes. He must've come straight from the battle, too.

"Slughorn," Draco sneered, raising his wand. "What gives you the right to enter our home? Father doesn't like those who disgrace the house of Slytherin."

Slughorn didn't seem fazed by the threat. "And _I_ don't like it when you question my authority, boy. Though our beliefs may differ, you father was still a great student of mine, and he told me I was welcome here. Unless, of course, he's-"

"Oh, no. I'm alive, Slughorn, thank you very much." Lucius stepped into the living room with Narcissa behind him, grinning briefly at his former Potions master.

"Tell us why you're here," Draco commanded.

"I'm here on behalf of the new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"That blood traitor?!" Narcissa spat. "Who elected _him_ Minister?"

"_I_ did. As did every surviving member of the Order of the Phoenix, and trustworthy employees in the Ministry. You won't need to go on the run, Malfoy. That _blood traitor _is offering you a pardon."

This smacked the anger right out of Draco's father. He relaxed, drawing a breath.

Draco admired the way Slughorn took control. Like a true Slytherin. In that moment, Draco forgot why he'd despised Slughorn all throughout his sixth year. He wasn't even jealous of Harry Potter anymore.

Yes, he'd been jealous. Not too long ago, he would've denied it. But how _stupid_ was that? _Stupid, to_ have envied a boy who was famous for surviving a Killing Curse, while his mother and father lost their lives.

Draco would never act so childishly now. Never again. _I'm finally becoming my own person, _he realized.

He found the voice to ask, "We're not being punished?"

"No, dear boy," his old professor answered. "When you three abandoned the battle, it was clear that your hearts no longer belonged to You-Know-Who. Or, at the very least, you've rejected his most extreme demands. In fact, Shacklebolt would like to see you at the Ministry tomorrow, Lucius. He's creating a new post that might be perfect for a man of your skills."

"Th… thank you, Slughorn," Lucius stammered.

"I must be clear: this is a warning. Don't give Shacklebolt any reason to imprison you again. If you do, it's off to Azkaban for the rest of your life. Understood?"

One look at his father, and Draco felt a glimpse into how awful the prison cells were. He vowed, whatever happened, that he'd keep himself in line, away from Azkaban and Dementors.

He wouldn't need to be reminded twice.


	2. Chapter 2

As Draco lay asleep one summer night, the visions he encountered seemed all too real. Every witch and wizard experienced them occasionally. They'd steal a glimpse into alternate worlds that showed what could've been versus real life. But this… this immediately felt like a nightmare.

He was being led into the courtroom at the Ministry of Magic.

Kingsley Shacklebolt announced, _"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you stand accused of several charges: First, that in June of Nineteen Ninety-Seven, you did, knowingly, allow your fellow Death Eaters into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry through a pair of Vanishing Cabinets. Do you deny this charge?"_

_"No," _Draco's alternate-self replied.

_"Second, that you did, knowingly, purchase and deliver to Hogwarts a necklace filled with dark magic, as well as a bottle of poisoned wine. Do you deny this charge?" _

_"No."_

_"Third, you are charged with the attempted murders of Miss Katie Bell and Mister Ronald Weasley. Do you deny this charge?" _

_"No, but… I wasn't trying to kill them," _Draco confessed._ "The necklace and the poison… were intended for Professor Dumbledore." _Saying it aloud only intensified his shame.

_"I assume there are people who can verify this statement?" _

_"Yes. Ask my father or mother-or my…" _He was about to say_, my aunt, _until he remembered the painful truth: Bellatrix Lestrange was dead.

_"Only a handful of Death Eaters knew, but they're all gone now except for my parents." _

_"I see. We've already questioned Mister Borgin of Borgin and Burkes, who confessed that he sold these items to you. That, alongside your confession, gives us cause to move forward, to the most serious charge. We shall now bring Miss Katie Bell to the stand." _

_"Where did you come upon the necklace?" _Shacklebolt asked her.

_"My friend Leann told me I shouldn't touch it, but I didn't listen. It looked so… so pretty." _Katie blushed in shame.

They called Ron Weasley next, and his questioning began with, _"Please tell us about the day you were poisoned." _

_"It was me seventeenth birthday," _Ron answered. _"You know Harry Potter, my best mate? Well, he was given some chocolates infused with love potion. I ate them without knowing, and sort of got all lovesick. So Harry took me to Slughorn's office for an antidote."_

_"Horace Slughorn?"_ the minister clarified.

_"That's right. He thought a bit of wine might help, but it was the poisoned wine. I would've died if Harry didn't stuff a bezoar down my throat."_

_"How did it wind up in Slughorn's hands?" _

_"Dumbledore gave it to him."_

Slughorn himself confirmed this later on in Draco's trial. And the ultimate verdict didn't come as a surprise.

_"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are hereby sentenced to life in Azkaban. "_

The next morning, Draco ate breakfast at a snail's pace. To think… He'd bragged about the mission so often, and yet when all was said and done, he felt lousy. Maybe he didn't like Ron Weasley (or any Weasley, for that matter), but if the poison had killed Ron… he wouldn't have been worthy of forgiveness. Draco considered the alternative, too; Slughorn could've drunk the wine alone, with nobody to save him. Attempting to murder Dumbledore had been difficult enough.

"Draco, you are no assassin," the old man told him once.

_I guess he was right, _Draco thought. That didn't excuse his actions. He'd used two out of three Unforgivable Curses, many times, at the Dark Lord's request! Why had Draco avoided the fate in his dreams? Was Kingsley Shacklebolt really so kind, to pardon everything he'd done? Where could he go to redeem himself?

Where it started, of course. Draco made up his mind there and then. Next month, he would leave on the Hogwarts Express for one final year.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you certain this is what you want?" Narcissa Malfoy asked her son.

Draco nodded, closing the locks on his trunk. "You and Dad graduated; so why can't I?"

And, though he never admitted to it, he missed Hogwarts. Everything was packed- spell books, robes, potion ingredients- even his prefect badge. Slughorn had vouched for Draco on that. He was ready for school. Draco's parents accompanied him to King's Cross Station, and when they said goodbye, Lucius actually embraced him. It wasn't exactly common with Draco's father, to show much affection. But life had completely turned around for them, in the best way possible. They were hoping to become a _real_ family now. Maybe Narcissa hadn't contacted her estranged sister Andromeda yet (which Draco thought might be good for her)... Still.

One step at a time.

* * *

His last train ride ended so quickly. Most of it he spent looking out his window, finally appreciating the beauty of the countryside. Others ignored him, mostly. Whatever. Draco wasn't here to win any popularity contest.

Leaving the Hogwarts Express, he finally saw what pulled the carriages, and book illustrations hardly did them justice. Thestrals were downright _ugly_ horses. Their appearance represented something worse; it meant Draco had witnessed death. Sad but true. The last time he'd seen Hogwarts, it lay in complete shambles. Ministry employees (including Draco's father) had worked all summer to reconstruct it- magic could only accomplish so much at once, and each individual could only work for so long before they needed rest. Now there wasn't a brick out of place. As Draco viewed the castle, he wondered at the way Muggles lived without magic. How _else _did Hogwarts still function after thousands of years?

_Good to be back,_ he found himself thinking.

In the Great Hall, Draco chose a seat near the front of the Slytherin table, where sorted first-years would soon join him. They'd need prefects to show them around. But his only friends, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini, weren't coming back. Pansy and Blaise had already graduated. He assumed that Goyle was running from the Ministry alongside his Death Eater family. And, well, Crabbe… _Poor Crabbe._ Burning to death couldn't have been pleasant.

Draco watched everyone's heads bend in deep conversations, eyes fixed on him. There were whispered phrases like: _Death Eater. Black family. Cowards. _ Even among Slytherins, he'd become an outsider. Not every Slytherin practiced dark magic, and those who _did_, those who had Death Eaters in their family, were angry with him for betraying them. It might take a while before they could trust him again. If they didn't like who Draco _really_ was, then so be it.

He looked ahead to see the professors. They were all here again; Flitwick, Sprout, Hagrid, Trelawney (what the devil was that loony doing out of the Divination tower?), Slughorn, and others. Draco also saw unfamiliar professors, hired to replace those who died last year. But he doubted they could replace the only professor he'd ever truly liked and respected- _Snape. _ Nobody really knew how the man had passed away. Draco had no desire to find out, either. That didn't change this void left behind.

Hogwarts would never be the same. As a result, Professor McGonagall wasn't occupying her usual seat, but a golden chair at the middle of the table.

"Attention! May I have your attention, please?" she commanded once everyone had settled down.

Draco shot a scathing look at the younger Slytherins who didn't stop chatting. One look at his badge and they grew quiet. _Ah, the perks of being a prefect,_ he thought. _Everybody has to listen to me. _The first-years waited nervously up front as Professor Flitwick came to meet them, holding the Sorting Hat and a stool.

"Welcome, everyone!" McGonagall cheered. "I'm certainly glad to see your faces, both new and old. For those of you who may not be aware, I am your Headmistress, Professor McGonagall. Let's get on to Sorting, shall we? Professor Flitwick?"

The Charms professor nodded, and one by one, each first-year learned where they belonged in Hogwarts. Draco recalled his own Sorting; how the Hat cried "Slytherin!" as soon as it was placed on his head.

McGonagall stood again when the Sorting finished, beaming. "Well-done, first-years! I hope you make your Houses proud. Before the feast, I'd like to say a few words. As usual, no student is allowed to enter the Forbidden Forest."

Draco suppressed the urge to laugh. He could envision himself telling the first-year Slytherins:_ Don't believe everything she says. I got sent into the forest as a punishment during my first year… _

"Today," the new Headmistress continued, "we begin a new era at Hogwarts. The devastation of this past spring cannot be understated, for it was the worst our school has seen in decades. Many of you are still grieving the loss of friends and family. But, as it must, life continues. It's necessary, in times like these, to find strength in one another. To all first-years, I pray you learn from the examples set by your elder peers. And don't be afraid to speak with your professors outside of class. We're not only here to teach; we're here to guide you. Speaking of professors, I'd like to introduce three new additions to our staff."

Draco paid little attention to these professors; he would get acquainted with them later, anyway. When the feast began, he scanned the Gryffindor table. As expected, Ginny Weasley's flaming red hair caught his eyes instantly. She was talking with another girl whose voice had always irritated Draco. The bushy curls were unmistakable.

"I should've known you'd come back, Granger."

He'd guessed right. Hermione Granger peered at him from across the table. "Of course I did," she said. "Now that Voldemort's gone, I can finally return to what I love: an enriching education." Draco couldn't help being impressed that Hermione spoke the Dark Lord's name aloud. "I'm just confused about why _you're_ here, Malfoy."

"Well, you may find it hard to believe, but I thought it was important to finish school, too."

"I suppose I can respect that," she answered, not meeting his eyes. Ginny wasn't even noticing Draco's presence.

"Oi, Weasley!" he jeered. "Where's that no-good brother of yours? Or Potter, for that matter? He defeats the most evil wizard of all time, and suddenly, he decides he's too legendary for school?"

Ginny swerved around to face him. "If you must know, they weren't interested in graduating. They've been offered part-time internships at the Ministry, anyways. A little reward for what they accomplished last year. Hermione got an internship offer, too, but she didn't take it."

"Leave her alone, Malfoy," Hermione snapped. "One word to McGonagall and I can have her take away your badge. Then there would be no more prefects' bathroom for you…"

"Shut it."

"Is that any way to speak to your Head Girl?" she replied.

"You're not Head-oh." Draco's smug expression faded when he noticed the shiny pin on Hermione's robes. Indeed, she had been named Head Girl.

What a surprise.

"Er... I'll just see you in class, then."

If that was any indication, Draco expected a long, fun-filled seventh year.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco had a simple list of classes: Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. That was all. But seventh-years were already preparing for N.E.W.T.S. Since Draco's first wand had been stolen, he was forced to buy a new one. Which meant the difficulty level couldn't be higher. Which meant study, study,_ study_.

_Oh, brilliant_, he thought_. I'm turning into Granger… _

By September's end, Draco felt buried under his enormous assignment load- and prefect duties. Luckily, dinner (always fantastic!) gave him some rest from the madness.

When owls came flying overhead to deliver mail, Draco watched a bird dive clumsily into the Gryffindor table.

"Errol," he heard Ginny Weasley grumble. "Miracle you're still alive, really."

Draco teased, "Who's that from, Weasley? Your boyfriend?"

"No. And I wouldn't tell you if it was."

He recalled when he first met her at Flourish and Blotts just before second year; back then, she'd defended Harry Potter from one of Draco's taunts, and he'd joked, _Oh, look, Potter. You've got yourself a girlfriend! _Ironically, four years later, he'd caught Potter and Weasley holding hands while strolling around the castle.

But maybe he should quit antagonizing her. A Weasley had met his fate recently; one of the twins. George? Fred? Draco couldn't have distinguished one from the other if his life depended on it.

Draco saw his owl, Cressida, zooming towards him with the monthly package of goodies that he always received from his parents. He cut it open right there, rather than waiting, because they usually sent treats for Cressida, too. She enjoyed nibbling out of Draco's hand.

Then another, unfamiliar owl dropped a maroon envelope into his lap- the kind of envelope no wizard ever wanted to receive.

"Howler," he whispered. _Better get this over with… _

Hands trembling, he opened the note.

"DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD ESCAPE FROM US, BOY?" a husky, animalistic voice screamed. "WE KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. WE'RE COMING TO KILL YOU, AND YOUR FAMILY."

"No…"

Every student's gaze was on Draco. He recognized the speaker: his uncle by marriage, Rodolphus Lestrange. He'd been the perfect match for Aunt Bella- and he was _twice_ as insane. Draco couldn't help feeling glad that such a couple never had any sons or daughters. How did Rodolphus know where he was? Ask Draco's family, and they'd say he was on vacation in Australia. They wouldn't reveal his true location. Unless… _Unless he tortured them. Like he tortured Longbottom's parents. _The idea churned Draco's stomach.

As the Howler disintegrated, Professor McGonagall bolted out of her chair, gesturing for Draco to follow her. She led him towards a nearby eagle statue that guarded a staircase.

"Drooble's Best Blowing Gum," McGonagall commanded, willing the steps to rise.

Lucius had told Draco about the extravagance of Dumbledore-McGonagall's office, how deceased headmasters were immortalized within these walls. Seeing it for himself, Draco felt absolutely wonderstruck.

_I wonder how Snape kept the office when he was headmaster,_ he thought.

Professor McGonagall rushed to her desk and began writing at a furious pace. "I'm sending emergency owls to the Ministry and your parents," she explained. "They'll want to find a safe house where they can stay until further notice."

"What about me?" he asked.

"Hogwarts should be enough, but after last year, I won't take any chances. I shall enlist a handful of Aurors to monitor the castle grounds for suspicious activity. Would you consider letting one serve as your bodyguard?"

Draco scoffed. "Like a nanny? No thanks-"

"Malfoy, I daresay Aurors know how to become invisible. Don't you? That would save you any embarrassment."

_And this might be why the Sorting Hat didn't put me in Ravenclaw_, he thought_._ "Uh… Yes. You're right, Professor. Sorry. I think it's a good idea."

"Then, if you're comfortable staying here," McGonagall said, "I'll go make the arrangements. Shouldn't be gone for more than an hour or two."

Despite his restlessness, Draco agreed. He occupied himself by practicing spells, watching the sky as it blackened.

One hour. Two hours. Three hours passed before the door unlocked, and Professor McGonagall entered. Behind her stood a lanky young man with crimson hair, who readjusted his glasses; very ancient, _familiar_ glasses.

It was none other than Percy Weasley.

"Hello, Malfoy," he said.

Draco was aghast. "You're joking. _Him_? Since when did you become an Auror, Weasley?"

"Passed the exam in August, I'll have you know," Percy asserted. "Like McGonagall explained to you, I'll be following you around, but you won't see me. 'Course, if you need privacy, just give me a signal and I can disappear."

"And the Slytherin common room?" Draco inquired.

"Don't fret. I'm not allowed down there. Nevertheless, with the daily password changes, you couldn't get any safer. Came up with them myself. I'd also suggest keeping indoors, hard as that might be for you."

No sitting by the lake? No visits to Hogsmeade? No Quidditch? He already lived in a _dungeon_.

"I don't necessarily _have_ to stay inside, Weasley," he said. "Look, I'm a seventh-year; and my best subject is Potions. Couldn't I just… become somebody else when I go out?"

He saw a rare grin twist Percy's lips. "Why, you most definitely could."


	5. Chapter 5

Draco was back on the Quidditch pitch as Slytherin's Seeker. _Finally. _This time, instead of letting his father offer any bribes, he'd _earned _his position, fair and square.

The catch? He wouldn't get any recognition for it. Using Polyjuice Potion, Draco became Emmett Falcon, a Slytherin fifth-year that Percy Weasley selected. Most Slytherins weren't exactly trustworthy, but Emmett's record was clean. They'd both talked it over. Emmett had wanted to try out, anyhow, which solidified Draco's false identity. Nobody else knew about their secret except for the professors- and Hermione Granger. She provided them with two special medallions as their line of communication. A novel invention left over from Dumbledore's Army. While Draco-as-Emmett ventured outside, Emmett-as-Draco had to sit inside McGonagall's office. Their switch-up hadn't encountered any problems so far.

Today's game: Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. Draco kept his eyes moving, watching for the elusive Snitch. He found it odd maneuvering Emmett's Nimbus 2000. Didn't those broomsticks go out of style _years _ago?

He heard a loud _smack _off to his right side.

Daniel Parkinson, a Slytherin Beater, raced ahead with his club. "Oi!" he yelled to Draco. "Watch them Bludgers, would you? Were you even _looking_?"

"Yes!" Draco replied. He'd die before he took criticism from Pansy's younger brother, even if he _was_ team captain.

Moments later, cheers erupted from the audience.

"Aaaand Joanne Henderson catches the Snitch for Ravenclaw!" The commentator exclaimed. "Ravenclawwwwwww wins!"

Ravenclaws jumped and whooped, flapping banners proudly.

_What? How did I miss it? _Draco thought. Down below, Joanne held the Snitch between her fingers. She raised it high as her teammates rushed to embrace her. Draco knew Joanne from his Transfiguration class; she was incredibly tall, with platinum-blonde hair. She also had Muggle parents.

But Draco had forgotten to care about bloodlines. You didn't choose your family, just like you didn't choose whether or not you possessed magic. What really mattered was how you treated others.

* * *

Slytherins received Emmett harshly when dinnertime came around. Between his height (there was dwarf blood in his family, so he said) and baby-smooth complexion, he could still blend in with first-years. He frowned at Draco, idly stirring a bowl of chicken dumpling soup.

"Fantastic. Everybody hates me for losing the game."

"They'll get over it," Draco assured him.

"Easy for you to say," Emmett retorted. "My mum and dad were Quidditch legends back in their school days. I've got a lot to live up to."

"Wonder how that would feel… so much pressure."

"Oh, lay the guilt on me, why don't you?" Emmett mumbled.

Draco only chuckled. "I'm joking, Falcon. What I'm trying to say is, I get it. Wanting to please your parents. And you'll have more chances to do that. So lighten up. Things could be worse."

"Right you are," Emmett agreed, no doubt thinking of last year's battle. His older brother, Seth, had laid down his life that fateful night.

At the next table, Ravenclaws celebrated their victory. Draco thought it only fair to congratulate Joanne on her winning catch; so once he finished eating, he wandered over to her.

"Nice job today, Henderson," Draco said.

"Oh. Thanks, Malfoy."

"Not bad for a Mud- I mean, a Muggle-born."

"Aw, listen to that," Daniel Parkinson teased from his seat. "Malfoy's going soft. Your Death Eater friends would be ashamed…"

"Do yourself a favor, Parkinson: shut up."

"But this girl doesn't have magical parents. Wouldn't you rather punish her with the Cruciatus Curse?"

Draco felt rage simmering inside him.

"Shut your face and _LISTEN!_" he bellowed. "_DON'T_. Talk to me. About what I did with them! You haven't got the slightest _CLUE _what it's like! If you were in my place, if people you cared about were being threatened, I bet _you'd_ use the Cruciatus Curse, too! I _know _you'd do it for Pansy. And it's not as easy to use as you might think!"

Thoroughly frustrated, he left the Great Hall without listening to Daniel's reply. Footsteps echoed behind him.

"Hey, Draco Malfoy!" a girl's voice called out.

It was a Ravenclaw that Draco had never met. She must've learned his name from other students. Her petite appearance and brunette hair reminded him of somebody… but _who?_

"What?" he snapped.

"I'm sorry he was so harsh," she told him. "If it helps any, you don't seem all that bad to me."

"Thank you… um…"

"Astoria Greengrass," she replied. "Maybe you know my sister, Daphne? You're in- I mean, you _were_ in the same year. Same house. I'm just two years below her."

_That's why she looked familiar_, Draco thought_. _"Oh yeah. Daphne. I remember her blabbering on about you, especially when you were sorted into Ravenclaw."

"Yeah. My whole family's been in Slytherin, and I expected I'd wind up there, but, hey, what can you do? The Hat's got a mind of its own."

"Funny thing, the Sorting Hat," he agreed.

Astoria clicked her shoes together, almost bashfully. "Well, see you later."

"See you later."

In spite of what Draco had done under Lord Voldemort's command, this random girl believed in him? Odd, but comforting. And she was rather pretty…

Maybe he could still be a teenager after all.


	6. Chapter 6

***NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Sorry it's been so long! I really didn't mean to leave you hanging. I promise, you'll get this whole story. I'm not ditching it. Thanks for reading :)***

By late December, the Ministry of Magic still hadn't found Rodolphus Lestrange or his cronies. As Draco had expected. He knew firsthand just how great Death Eaters were at concealing themselves. But his family was safe. They'd moved to some undisclosed location, where they could still work from home.

Even better, Draco had just begun dating Astoria Greengrass. She was fun to be around, not to mention a talented witch. Astoria could transfigure just about everything you put in front of her; in fact, Professor McGonagall was privately instructing her on the process of becoming an Animagus. McGonagall had even allowed Draco to tell Astoria about his Polyjuice Potion trade-off with Emmett. He liked her more and more every day.

It seemed very possible that Draco Malfoy was falling in love.

They met outside the Slytherin common room entrance, toting their luggage behind them.

"Before I forget," Draco said, "here's your Christmas present." He reached inside his cloak pocket and drew out a small box. When Astoria opened it, she gave a happy sigh.

"My Patronus!"

It was a live, miniature tortoise figurine. The animal's colorful shell glistened as it moved its flippers around.

Astoria beamed at him, showing off dimples in her cheeks. "This is wonderful, Draco! Thank you. How did you get this when you can't leave school?"

"Emmett bought it for me," he replied. "If you put it in water, it swims."

"Now, your turn."

She handed Draco a leather pouch, and inside it, he found wizard's chess pieces, carved out of white and black onyx. Just what he'd been hoping for. The pieces jumped around in the pouch when they saw him.

"Brilliant gift," he told her. A sly grin appeared in the corner of his mouth.

"Happy Christmas, and have a safe trip!" she said.

"You too," Draco answered.

He lowered his head and gave Astoria a kiss. In that second, everything faded away except for her. She wasn't just a girl. She was the bright ray of sunshine that he hadn't known he needed.

When Astoria left, Percy Weasley revealed himself, watching from a dungeon corner.

"That girl must be mad," Draco muttered.

"I disagree," Percy countered. "You're not the same insufferable git who came to Hogwarts seven years ago."

"Neither are you, Weasley," Draco admitted.

"I finally came to my senses this year, Malfoy. War can bring out the best in people."

_And the worst, _Draco thought.

They passed Hermione Granger on their journey to the castle doors, and she nodded at them politely.

"Happy Christmas," she greeted.

"Hold on, Granger," Draco said. "You're being _nice_ to me?"

"Well, you haven't irritated me once since the beginning of school feast," she noted.

He shrugged. "I have better things to do."

"And here I was looking forward to clobbering you in the nose again."

* * *

Percy and Draco traveled by Portkey that night, landing amidst a wide meadow. An ideal place for someone to hide out.

"So where exactly are we?" Draco asked.

"Ireland," Percy replied. He peered around. "Your mum and dad made that Portkey, so they should be around here… they mentioned something about a little stone cottage, on top of a hill… aha. That's it, right up there."

The minute Draco opened the door, he felt something was off. No parents to greet him. No sounds whatsoever.

"Hello, nephew. Long time, no see."

Draco's blood ran cold.

Rodolphus Lestrange had found them.

Before Percy or Draco could react, Rodolphus aimed his wand at Percy and said, "_Stupefy!_" Percy collapsed- but, thankfully, it hadn't been worse.

"I'll deal with him later," Rodolphus said.

"Uncle Rod," Draco whispered. "Up until you sent that Howler, I thought you were dead."

"Your dear Aunt Bella sure would have you believe that, wouldn't she? And yet, which of us is actually still alive?"

"The wrong Lestrange," Draco sneered.

Not a day went by that he didn't miss Bellatrix. When Draco was little, if his parents ever went away, Aunt Bella would take care of him. She'd bought Draco his first broomstick. He wasn't blind to her sadistic deeds, but she'd always treated him like her own son. Rodolphus was another story. Bellatrix had only tolerated him because of their mutual devotion to the Dark Lord, and to retain their family's pureblood legacy. They even looked alike; with the same dark, unkempt hair, and eyes like coals.

"You're in no position for threats," Draco's uncle said.

"We don't need to kill people to make them suffer. You know that a little too well. You'd better leave my family alone, or so help me…"

"Going to cast an Unforgivable Curse, are you? It won't help Lucius or Narcissa."

_Of course, he's been torturing them. _Draco wouldn't let his fear show. "How did you even get here?"

"See, the trick with Portkeys," Rodolphus said, "is making sure they don't fall into your enemy's hands. Part of my daily routine has been casting spells to detect Portkeys and taking them wherever they lead. A wild goose chase, yes, but it paid off. I'm just doing what the Dark Lord would've asked me to do: punishing deserters. While you're all within my reach, I'll cut to the chase… _Fiendfyre!_"

A snake of fire emerged from his wand, breaking into four heads. Four targets.

Rodolphus suddenly Disapparated- exactly what Draco would've done if his parents' lives weren't in jeopardy. He urgently cried "_Fiendfyre Finite!_" to douse the flames. They didn't spurt out, although it slowed the fire's progress. You could only eliminate Fiendfyre if you were completely focused. Rodolphus had decades more experience than Draco, and so, the flames continued swerving in four directions.

Onto his more important task: alerting Percy and finding his parents. He gently kicked Percy in the ribs. Ron's brother jumped.

"Malfoy, what are you- Merlin's beard."

"My parents are trapped somewhere in here!" Draco screeched. "I can go find my mum if you go find my dad."

"On it," Percy vowed.

Draco sprinted away, barely missing the flames behind him. He ran through the kitchen and peered inside a bedroom. Empty.

Then he heard muffled coughing in the next room. Narcissa was bound to a chair, gagging through a handkerchief. She hardly looked conscious. Arm in arm, they ran outside, fighting to get fresh air in their lungs.

Whatever energy she had, she put into extinguishing the Fiendfyre, and Draco assisted. But it couldn't undo the damage. All that now remained of the cottage were ashes.

Percy appeared, dragging Lucius with him. "He's not responding."

"Let me see him," Narcissa insisted.

"Nice little shack you conjured up, Mum," Draco joked.

"I didn't build it, and neither did your d- your dad. We used Memory charms on some Muggle family and convinced them to move." She smiled, kissing Draco on the cheek. "That was brilliant work, darling. I told you those dark magic lessons would come in handy."

She tapped her husband's wrist and neck, looking for a pulse.

"Is he all right?" Draco asked.

"Your father's… gone."


	7. Chapter 7

"But he's not even burned," Draco mumbled helplessly. He felt utterly numb, staring at his father's corpse. Almost like it couldn't be true. The man who helped give birth to him couldn't be dead.

Narcissa's crying told him it was real.

"Draco," she said through her tears, "remember who Lucius is… _was_. He got us into this mess, leaving a deadly organization. They obviously killed him before setting the fire. Miracle they didn't kill me, too."

Percy bowed his head. "Truly, I'm sorry. Perhaps I should leave and notify the Minister-"

"Yes," Draco agreed hastily. "But, first… thanks, Weasley."

Two words he'd never imagined himself saying.

The remaining Malfoys watched Percy leave, composing themselves until they were sure he'd vanished. Narcissa cradled Draco like he was still a baby. Instead of grumbling, he held onto her. She was the only real family he had now.

"We need to bring them down for good," Draco told his mother.

"I couldn't agree more, my boy."

But where to look?

He realized the answer instantly: his family always visited Prague in the summer, and Narcissa would always invite Bellatrix. Of course, that meant Rodolphus tagged along. He knew everywhere they loved to go in Prague, like their favorite hotel, The Catacombs. With any luck, that was where Draco could locate his uncle.

He Apparated outside the doors of The Catacombs. True to its name, it was built underground, carved out from a majestic cave. Only Dark witches and wizards typically knew about it.

In the lobby, he took out a handkerchief that he'd once stolen from Rodolphus, since it was required for a Locating Spell. Draco pressed his wand against the cloth and whispered, _"__Navigatum Rodolphus._" The wand tugged him forwards, eventually starting to vibrate at the door of room 12.

Could this really be so easy? He cast _Alohamora _to learn the answer.

_Click. _

Draco slowly let himself inside- and immediately, he knew he'd been right. Rodolphus Lestrange sat in a reclining chair. He wasn't alone. He chatted with the most ruthless werewolf Draco had ever known, Fenrir Greyback. They were flanked by Silas Goyle… and his son, Gregory. Draco's old crony appeared to be less of a dimwitted boy and more of a vengeful, Dark wizard.

"So, you're alive," Rodolphus said. "That's a shame. I was hoping to spare you agony."

Draco laughed. "You? _Spare me_? Rubbish. You don't spare anyone."

"You're right about that," Fenrir growled, as though he was itching for a full moon.

"Looking rather pale, Malfoy," Goyle teased.

"You don't want to kill me," Draco insisted.

"And why shouldn't we? You never were much of a friend to me or Crabbe. I mean, look where following you got him."

_Think fast._

"You shouldn't kill me," Draco said, "because I'm not like my parents! I never _really _wanted to abandon the Dark Lord. Mum and Dad might have, but they refused to leave me alone."

Goyle's father scoffed. "Words are just words. If you're really one of us, you'll do us a favor."

"Wonderful idea, Silas," Rodolphus agreed. "Here's what I'm thinking, nephew: Your dear friend, the younger Goyle, will decide your task."

_That might not be so bad_, Draco thought. His uncle would've forced him to kill, no question. But Goyle knew Draco well. He might take it easy on him.

The others huddled around Goyle to deliberate, and he emerged a moment later, clearing his throat.

"Living on the run is exhausting, Malfoy. We're in need of some money. So, you're going to steal five-hundred Galleons from The Catacombs."

Draco wanted to thank him a million times over, and apologize a million times over.

"I'll do it right now," he promised.

In the lobby, a goblin concierge was diligently organizing papers. Draco would've only stunned him, but he didn't know where the money was kept. He'd have to cast an Unforgivable Curse.

He took a deep breath, raised his wand, and muttered, "_Imperio._"

When he approached the goblin's desk, he was shot a distrustful look. "Can I get you a room?"

"No," Draco replied. "I want five hundred Galleons."

"Boy, that's… not unreasonable. Let me retrieve it for you." The goblin fumbled under his desk, coins jingling as he tossed them into a pouch.

Draco returned to room 12 with the sack of Galleons, and his former allies smiled greedily. Silas Goyle patted him on the back.

"Well done, Malfoy."

"Shall we celebrate, then?" Draco offered. "I brought Firewhisky."

"Ah! Good man!" Rodolphus cheered.

Luckily, he'd also crafted a sleeping draft for just this occasion. One that couldn't be detected when mixed with Firewhisky. He carried another bottle without the draft, so nobody suspected him of treachery. They only drank a few sips before he watched their happy expressions melt, as they slumped into unconsciousness.

He knelt down by the fireplace and began an incantation. Something he didn't have much experience with. It took all his concentration, but in the haze, he finally saw the Ministry of Magic's walls.

"Hello? Hello?" he called.

Then came the last man he wanted to see: Arthur Weasley. Maybe Draco liked Percy, but the other Weasleys didn't quite have his trust yet.

"Draco Malfoy?" he called.

"Yes," Draco answered. "Please, send help. I've got a few of the Death Eaters the Ministry is looking for. I gave them sleeping drafts, but they won't be asleep for long."

"Anybody else with them besides you?" Ron's father asked.

"No. Hurry before they wake up."

"I'll contact the Aurors immediately," Arthur promised. "Oh, and Malfoy?"

"What?"

"Good work. Your father would be proud."

"Thank you, sir," Draco replied.

If he kept this up, he'd owe the Weasleys his life.


	8. Chapter 8

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you so much for your patience! I really don't know why I'm taking so long, but like I said, you WILL get the whole story. I won't leave you hanging.**

**_LESTRANGE AND COHORTS SENTENCED TO DEMENTOR'S KISS_**

_By Lee Jordan _

_Voldemort's followers may still be roaming the earth, but we are pleased to report that Rodolphus Lestrange, perhaps the most notorious Death Eater alive, now sits in Azkaban. He was captured by Aurors Thursday afternoon. Alongside him, they arrested fellow Death Eaters, Silas Goyle, Gregory Goyle, and loyal ally Fenrir Greyback. Soon, they will face the Dementor's Kiss- a fate, Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt believes, is worse than death. _

_"They assisted in torturing and ending countless lives," Shacklebolt stated. "I know we can breathe a little easier knowing they're locked away." _

_Before their sentence is carried out, we're told, the Ministry will be interrogating them with Veritaserum to locate as many other Death Eaters as possible. _

Draco swallowed nervously when he read the paper. It seemed he'd only met Goyle yesterday; two young boys getting their wands at Ollivander's. Neither had the slightest idea how dark their lives would become.

He stood in a graveyard. Centuries of his family were buried here, but he could only stare at the fresh layer of dirt where his father lay. Lucius Malfoy had been spineless, prejudiced, and manipulative. _Your mother and I will be seriously disappointed if you aren't Sorted into Slytherin_, he'd said before Draco left on his first train ride to Hogwarts.

Yet Draco remembered plenty of good things about him, too. He'd introduced Draco to Quidditch, and they'd gone to countless matches. Something they usually did without Narcissa. There was also a bright side to Lucius teaching him dark magic: now, Draco knew how his enemies operated. But, thankfully, it appeared the worst was over.

A fox scampered by. Suddenly, the fox grew, morphing into the shape of a girl in Ravenclaw robes.

"Astoria!" Draco exclaimed. "You… I thought you were still in training."

"Surprise! McGonagall let slip that a few Gryffindor boys once succeeded with it- illegally, but nevertheless. They're allowed to go through the process at age fourteen in Africa. She saw no reason why I couldn't, so I earned my permit. I am now a full-fledged, registered Animagus."

Astoria talked fast, out of sheer excitement. It would've annoyed Draco once. Yet her joy trickled into him and lightened his grief.

"That's great," he said. "A fox, eh? You transform into whatever animal you're most like. Pretty accurate for you, I think. Smart animal."

"Whereas you, Draco, you'd probably be… oh, I know! A dragon. Your name means dragon."

"I'd rather not breathe fire," he joked, throwing his arm around her waist. She laid her head on his shoulder. Both of them watched over Lucius' grave.

"Thinking about coming back to school?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah. I don't see how I can move on otherwise. Can't be stuck in Hogwarts forever."

"Have I mentioned how proud I am of you? When you told me your plan to catch your uncle, your old allies… I never stopped worrying."

"It was scary, facing them. I think Goyle's the only reason I'm here now." He sighed heavily.

"I know you feel guilty," Astoria said, "but Goyle made his own choices, Draco. You can't blame yourself for his fate."

"I guess not," he replied. She always knew what to say, like she could read his mind.

"Now all you have to face is…"

"N.E.W.T.S." For the first time in months, Draco Malfoy laughed.

* * *

He and Astoria walked into the Great Hall together on a brisk January morning, a united front. Everybody knew what had occurred. Draco still expected a harsh reaction, but what happened instead completely took him by surprise.

"Welcome back, Malfoy," some people said as he walked past. Others… applauded. What a strange feeling. Even the Slytherins were behaving themselves.

Slughorn moved down from the professors table to greet Draco, grinning broadly. "Bravo! Bravo! I couldn't be more proud of my house. In fact, you should expect an invitation to my next Slug Club party."

"Really?" _About time._

"You've earned it."

"Can't wait to go, Professor," Draco replied. Was this how Harry Potter felt on a daily basis?

Draco could get used to it.

Emmett Falcon waved at them to join him for breakfast. They shook hands, grinning.

"Nice to see another friendly face," Draco admitted.

"Wish it were under happier circumstances," Emmett said.

"Me, too."

Now there was one final thing for Draco to set right. "I've been thinking, and, since we're done taking all that delicious Polyjuice Potion-" He made a gagging noise "-we've got to figure out this Quidditch situation."

"Nothing to discuss. You're still on the team, but you'll be playing as yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

Emmett bowed his head meekly. "I sort of… told Daniel Parkinson everything yesterday."

"Why the devil would you do that without my permission? Parkinson hates me."

"Draco Malfoy," the very boy he'd mentioned said from behind him. "I never understood what Pansy saw in you. You aren't half bad a Seeker, though. If you want to come back, I won't stop you."

Maybe Draco's previous words had truly gotten to Daniel, or maybe Professor McGonagall had given everyone a strict lecture about misbehaving, but Draco was too elated to care.

"I'll stay on the team," he announced, "with one condition: you keep your trap shut around me unless you're talking Quidditch."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Whatever. See you at practice tomorrow, Malfoy."

"I'll be there."

As they watched Daniel return to his seat, Emmett and Draco shared glances, both with their arms folded.

"Looks like you're out for the rest of the season, Falcon."

"When did I ever actually play?" Emmett replied, chuckling. "Besides, I've got two more years left."

Quidditch was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But nothing compared to it; flying, dodging Bludgers at the last second and experiencing that rush; catching the Snitch to win the game.

Though Draco lost his father and turned on an old friend, he felt something bizarre coming over him.

Hope.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Time to get on the Hogwarts Express! Good luck to all of you who are in school. You can do it :) **

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

"Seventh years, please come forward," Professor McGonagall instructed.

The four houses were lined up by their respective tables in the Great Hall. Younger students had already gone home for the summer, unless invited to stay.

Today, Draco would bid farewell to Hogwarts.

Professor McGonagall looked down on them, arms open with joy. "My dear seventh years! Your journey at Hogwarts began right on these steps, where you were Sorted; not quite children, but not quite young adults. You've all grown up to become fine people. Today, it's only fitting that here is also where your school journey ends. For many, however, they will never get this chance. I'd like us to start with a moment of silence for our students who gave their lives in the Battle of Hogwarts."

Even the ceiling seemed to hush as everyone fell mute, lost in thought.

_This one's for you, Crabbe,_ Draco thought. _I'm sorry I treated you so horribly._ He'd never really appreciated Crabbe's loyalty until it was too late.

"Now, as your name is called, you will receive two gifts. One will be given to you by your respective Heads of House. The other is my token."

She held a ball in her fist: a golden Sneakoscope. "My greatest wish is that you do not see another Wizarding War during your lifetime. We've entered a peaceful time, but you cannot go unprepared. I hope these Sneakoscopes allow you to be one step ahead of your potential enemies."

Very useful, in Draco's case. He still worried that other Death Eaters might come after him. One spin of his new Sneakoscope, and he could know if something dark was going on nearby.

"I will next ask Professor Pomona Sprout to read the names of our seventh-years from Hufflepuff House."

Professor Sprout shook hands with each Hufflepuff, which included this year's Head Boy, Richard Collins, handing them a pack of seeds. What magical plant they grew, Draco could only guess.

Professor Flitwick, standing on his usual book pile, introduced the Ravenclaws. They each received (what a shock!) a book. Before long, "Luna Pandora Lovegood" skipped her way towards Flitwick. Draco hadn't ever spoken to her, but other people said she was an oddball. She'd been seen around Harry Potter frequently. Maybe not so odd.

"Truly, Gryffindor House has left a real mark on Hogwarts and the wizarding world ever since it was established. Being Sorted into this house myself, of course, I'm rather biased. Professor Sinistra?"

The astronomy teacher assumed her place as the new head of Gryffindor. There were a few names Draco vaguely recognized from his classes. He couldn't quite pay attention enough.

"Your Head Girl, Hermione Jean Granger."

Later:

"…And the last of our Gryffindors, Quidditch Captain, Miss Ginerva Molly Weasley!"

A host of redheads cheered for Ginny as she stepped up to claim her awards. Which is why the boy with dark, unkempt hair, and hideous glasses stood out among them. Draco hadn't seen his face since the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Well, well, well," he muttered. "Harry Potter."

Being within hearing range, Harry pivoted to glance over at him, nodding. "Malfoy."

"Yes, congratulations!" McGonagall declared. "_However, _I must confess that we've not yet recognized all of our Gryffindors. There are three outstanding students who, rather than complete seventh year with their peers, went on a mission. This mission led to the downfall of Lord Voldemort. Therefore, it's only fair that each of them receives an award for services to the school. First, I want to acknowledge Mister Ronald Bilius Weasley."

"Yeah, Ron! You _destroy_ that Horcrux!" one of his brothers yelled.

"Our second honoree is no stranger to excellence; Miss Hermione Granger!"

Hermione ruffled Ron's hair affectionately when he joined her. Plaques were handed out with their names engraved on them.

"In my opinion, this next young man is the bravest wizard of his generation. A heartbreaking tragedy made his name famous. But he's proven himself to be more than The Boy Who Lived. Because of him, our world is safe again. Ladies and gentlemen, join me in welcoming Mister Harry James Potter!"

Was Draco imagining things, or did Harry blush a little from that introduction?

Harry, Ron and Hermione embraced one another. Draco wondered how it felt to be in such a tightly-knit trio, almost like siblings. Being an only child was stifling at times. Over this past year, he'd come to think of Emmett as his younger brother.

"Finally, we present… the seventh-years of Slytherin House." People began jeering, but Professor McGonagall raised her voice to continue: "There's no question that it has bred countless dark witches and wizards, including, yes, a notoriously evil man who once went by the name Tom Riddle. No matter what the past may dictate, I still have faith in this house. Without further ado, I give you, Professor Horace Slughorn."

Only two Slytherins were ahead of Draco. He kept his ears open for the words:

"Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"That's my boy!" Narcissa shouted, applauding while Draco shook hands with his professors.

_Oh, Mum, don't embarrass me… _

It turned out that Slughorn would be giving them custom pocketknives, with the Slytherin emblem inscribed on their handles.

"People will surprise you," Professor McGonagall said after the Slytherins were called for. "Gryffindors can be afraid. Ravenclaws can lose their knowledge. Hufflepuffs can demonstrate the utmost bravery. Slytherins can overcome darkness. Which brings me to our final award. This young man has endured more than you could possibly imagine. In the beginning, he sided with dark wizards, like his family has done for centuries. But he discovered that his true allegiance is to justice."

_Hold on, _Draco thought. _She's not talking about me…_

"Using his outstanding talent for Potions, he subdued Death Eaters all by himself, and saw them chained in Azkaban. I firmly believe that if it weren't for him, more lives would've been lost."

Draco tuned out, his eyes widening in shock. _Is she really giving an award to-_

"-Draco Malfoy!"

He composed himself and walked up to meet her before he did anything embarrassing. McGonagall smiled, the only time Draco could ever recall her smiling at him. She'd been quiet upon his return in the winter.

"I'd like to offer my deepest condolences," she whispered as she slipped his plaque into his hands. "This was the least I could do after you went above and beyond a student's duties."

"I'll never forget this," Draco vowed.

When he left, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Saying goodbye is bittersweet. But I feel proud that you'll be out in the world, making life better for all, whether magical or Muggle. Take your education at Hogwarts and let it become part of you. Well… I'm sure you're all hungry by now, so let's commence with the feast!"

Draco stared ahead, looking for Harry Potter's scrawny frame. He found Potter as he prepared to sit at the Gryffindor table.

"I'm sorry," Draco blurted out. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you all those years. It wasn't fair of me."

Harry creased his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, too. About your dad. And Crabbe. And others you lost during the war. I know they were-"

"Death Eaters," Draco finished.

"_Yes_… Death Eaters. But they were your family as well."

"Some of them, yes."

_I lost a cousin, too,_ he suddenly realized.

Nymphadora Tonks. He'd spent his whole life pretending that she didn't exist. Not a single Black communicated with her mother, Andromeda, not since her marriage to a Muggle-born man; and this extended to Nymphadora. He never had met either woman.

But Andromeda was living still. Narcissa's sister. Maybe he could pay his aunt a visit. With everything that had occurred, she'd probably welcome him gladly.

_Of course, this idea comes while I'm with Potter,_ he thought. That boy always made him want to be a better person.

"I never did thank you, by the way," Draco said. "When you saved my life in the Room of Requirement. So, thanks, Potter."

He turned his back and made to leave.

Then, Harry's voice called behind him: "There's something you should know. Your mother saved my life that same day."

"She did? How?"

"I really was shot with the Killing Curse, and she went to check on me. When she noticed that I hadn't died, she asked me if you were alive. She could've told Voldemort the truth. But instead, she risked getting killed."

Draco glanced over at his mother, who was congratulating other Slytherins. And suddenly, he knew exactly what to do.


	10. Chapter 10

"What do you think, Falcon? Too mushy?"

Emmett shook his head. "No, it's just right. Short, to the point."

Draco's studying had paid off. He'd miss living in a castle, with all its twists and turns. But at least he'd met Emmett Falcon and Astoria Greengrass. Emmett was paying a visit this beautiful summer day, and they sat on the patio outside Malfoy Manor. He didn't mind anything Draco had done, what his family had stood for.

Well, all but one surviving member of his family.

He read over his letter again:

_Dear __Andromeda Tonks,_

_My name is Draco Malfoy. You've probably never heard of me, but I'm your nephew. I'm 19 years old. For those 19 years, we've never met. I want to change that. Please reply so we can arrange a meeting. I hope it's not any trouble._

_Sincerely, _

_Draco Malfoy_

"Stop torturing yourself," Emmett insisted. "Just send it."

"Easy for you to say. I'm forbidden from talking with her."

"Yes, but you aren't eleven years old anymore! You're an adult, Draco Malfoy, and your mother can't do anything about that. Maybe this is just what she needs."

"Who? My mum or Andromeda?"

"I meant, _they_. Both of them."

Draco chortled, amazed by Emmett's wisdom. Cressida soon flew away with the message bound to her claws.

Narcissa was still none the wiser about his secret plan. He finally told her while they were eating dinner together.

"Mum, I wrote to… to your sister. Andromeda. I asked if she wanted to meet."

His mother's knife dropped onto the dining room floor. "What?" she replied in a whisper. "You dare talk with her-"

"Oh, come off it. The Black sisters were legends in Slytherin House. I think we can forgive her, can't we? Especially in light of recent events? Her daughter is dead. Her husband is dead."

"That Muggle-born man, Tonks? He's dead?"

"Killed by Snatchers, I found out," he confirmed morbidly. "All she has now is Nymphadora's baby boy to care for."

"I think Nymphadora preferred using just her last name, actually."

So, Narcissa _had_ been keeping track of her sister's family.

"Would you maybe want to come with me, to surprise her?" Draco asked.

His mother looked melancholy, but there was a tinge of happiness in her face. "Well… you've already contacted her. I suppose I could."

Andromeda's response came the next day. To Draco's surprise, the Black family crest was embossed on her parchment. Something she must've been given before she married Ted Tonks.

_Dear Draco,_

_It's no trouble whatsoever. Yes, I know about you and what you did to capture your Aunt Bella's dreadful husband. I've always wanted to see you, especially since I have no other nieces or nephews, but, as I'm sure you know, our family disowned me decades ago. It's time we start afresh. Do come over to my home whenever you'd like. I stay here most days, lately. Dora's son is quite a handful! _

_Love, _

_Your Aunt Andromeda_

Her address was listed below.

It wasn't long before the Malfoys Apparated on Andromeda's doorsteps. She lived just outside of London, in a brick townhouse apartment.

Narcissa hid behind a tall shrub as Draco knocked. A middle-aged, brunette woman answered the door. She could've been Bellatrix's twin, but somehow, Draco could tell she wasn't anything like her. Her expression was gentle and kind. Draco had to pinch himself. Andromeda Tonks had always been the 'bad seed' in the Black family, the subject he was never allowed to bring up. Yet he'd dreamed about her often.

He felt at a loss for words. _What if this doesn't work?_

"Draco," Andromeda said.

"H…Hello…"

"Call me Andromeda," she replied.

Draco nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Hello, Andromeda."

"My dear nephew."

"Yes."

Unexpectedly, she pulled him to her. She looked over the moon to see him. How did she manage it, after what she'd been through? Draco would be- _was _furious that his grandparents had shut their daughter out so harshly. They'd robbed him of an aunt, and her of a nephew.

"Oh, you look so much like your mother," she gushed.

"That he does," Narcissa whispered.

_Here it goes_, Draco thought. His mother appeared in the doorway.

Andromeda's eyes widened. "Cissy? Is that you?"

"I didn't think you'd recognize me."

"I'll be checking into St. Mungo's the day I forget my little sister's face!"

The sisters embraced, and in a flash, more than twenty years apart seemed to evaporate. They were overwhelmed by tears.

Andromeda brought them into her living room for privacy. Baby toys were strewn across the floor, but Draco didn't care. She obviously wasn't attempting to seem all high and mighty, unlike other Blacks he knew.

He liked his aunt more and more by the second.

"Dear Bella would be laughing if she were here right now," she went on. "The Black sisters, reunited! I miss her laugh… I always hoped you, me and Bella would be together again one day. Mum and Dad, too… There's so much I never got to say…"

Narcissa choked down a sob. "Mum and Dad fought over you constantly. Even Lucius- Even _Lucius_ thought it was too harsh, disowning you."

"Oh… I hadn't realized... I- I heard about him… It was seven or so months ago, wasn't it?"

"Yes. We're doing all right."

"Ted's been gone for nearly a year and a half," Andromeda noted, staring off towards a photo on her fireplace mantle. Her younger self was blushing in a white lace dress. The man with his arm wrapped around her could only be Ted Tonks. Another picture showed a pink-haired woman, grinning next to Cornelius Fudge as she received her Auror badge.

Draco's aunt sighed. "My precious Dora."

They suddenly heard an infant, crying from the next room.

"Oh, he's awake," Andromeda said. She waved Draco and Narcissa to follow her. In a crib beside her bed, the baby boy lay wide awake. He was growing into his hair, a nice brown color. It quickly turned a bright violet.

"Draco, I want you to meet your cousin, and Cissy, your great-nephew-"

Narcissa gave her sister a friendly slap. "Now, now. That makes me sound old!"

"We're not getting any younger, so you might as well embrace it- This is my grandson, little Teddy Lupin. He's a Metamorphagus, like Dora. Isn't that incredible?"

Draco felt a little jealous that Teddy wouldn't need Polyjuice Potion to change his appearance.

The four of them moved back to the living room and settled down on Andromeda's couch. For hours, they shared tales of family and Hogwarts, while Andromeda fed the baby a nutritional potion. Draco realized just how empty his family had been without her.

His mother volunteered to lay Teddy down for another nap, making faces at him as she went.

Andromeda smiled at Draco. "So… You're all done with Hogwarts. Passed your N.E.W.T.S. What are you planning to do now?"

It was a very good question, indeed.


End file.
